One important key to winning the Pontic armies’ loyalty was to demonstrate continuity of the royal line. Alexander, for example, had visited the tomb of Cyrus the Great as a way of portraying himself as the next true king of Persia. Mithradates’ emotions must have intensified when he and his friends paid their respects at the mausoleum of his royal ancestors in Amasia. Five elaborate sepulchers of the kings of Pontus were carved into the cliffs high above the river, in accordance with ancient Iranian and Anatolian funeral customs. This magnificent necropolis and the handsome walls of the fortress on the acropolis of Amasia are the most impressive archaeological remains in all Pontus. In 2002, archaeologists discovered internal staircases and tunnels connecting the tombs with the castle above. An inscription identifies the resting place of Mithradates’ grandfather Pharnaces I. Each tomb had a terrace planted with wildflowers. In Zoroastrian belief, the king’s personal fire was extinguished upon death, but his xvarnah (spirit) might still cling to the bones interred in the tomb. If Mithradates’ ancestors’ spirits remained nearby, surely they smiled on the boy’s daring plans to escape assassination and avenge his father’s murder.14
FIG. 4.4. Rock-cut tombs of Mithradatid kings at Amasia. (Top) tombs of Mithradates I and II and Ariobarzanes; (bottom) tombs of Mithradates III and Pharnaces I. Mithradates V Euergetes and Mithradates VI Eupator were buried here too. The Persian-style tombs were accessible by long ladders or by rock-hewn tunnels from the acropolis fortifications. Photos courtesy of Jakob Munk Høtje.
A warm welcome at Amasia bolstered Mithradates’ confidence and his companions’ enthusiasm for their great adventure. Vowing to return one day when Amasia’s famed golden apples were ripe, Mithradates traveled southward along the Iris River, stopping at another of his father’s fortresses, Dadasa, on a high bluff above the village of Gaziura. From Gaziura, a road led west toward Zela, defended by another fortress, Skotios. There was a large temple-domain at Zela, founded centuries earlier by Scythian nomads, sacred to the Persian goddess Anahit. If the boys from Sinope were lucky enough to arrive during her annual festival, they would have joined crowds of intoxicated men and women dressed in Scythian costumes—leggings knitted in zigzig patterns, leather tunics, and pointed, tassled caps—and, in Strabo’s words, “reveling wantonly.”
After Zela, the boys returned to the easterly route, crossing the bridge over the Iris to visit more castles at Dazimon and Talaura. From here they may have made a foray south to the Halys River, on the road to Cappadocia. With each face-to-face consultation with his father’s commanders, Mithradates received pledges of their support and ensured that he controlled his inheritance. The coin and treasure hoards hidden in each of these forts would be of great importance to Mithradates in the wars to come.15
THE TURRET-FOLK
As the leaves began to turn red and gold, Mithradates led the group north, toward the mild sea coast, a good place to spend their first winter. The route went by way of Kabeira, a fortified palace of the ancient kings of Pontus. Strategically placed on the Lycos River, the defensible location and wild beauty of Kabeira made a very strong impression on young Mithradates. Strabo noted that it was encircled by heavily wooded mountains, with plenty of game.
One of the most impressive features near Kabeira was a year-round natural spring on a high crag above the river, some miles to the northwest. The spring gushed forth in a powerful waterfall that cascaded down the sheer rock face into the deep ravine below. Besides the fortified royal residence, Kabeira maintained a large sanctuary dedicated to the Anatolian moon god Men and the moon goddess Selene. At the temple, founded by Pharnaces I, the kings of Pontus traditionally swore their sacred oaths, invoking Men to bestow health, safety, and prosperity. The boys of Sinope admired the image of the god holding his javelin, astride his horse, with the crescent moon over his shoulder.16
From Kabeira, Mithradates might have decided to take the little-used winding trail over the mountains to the Black Sea. Strabo describes this region’s herds of gazelle and grain fields, and grapes, pears, apples, and nuts in such abundance that one could gather food all year long. Strabo even mentions the deep carpets of fallen leaves, for cushioning wayfarers’ beds. Continuing to follow the narrow seashore road toward the sunrise, the riders from Sinope were retracing the route traveled by Xenophon and his ten thousand Greek mercenaries, and by Jason and the Argonauts. Exporing the rocky coast, the group discovered hidden coves frequented by pirates plying the Black Sea. The road petered out into a rough track in the remote chora of Trapezus, a town with an excellent harbor. From Trapezus, a route headed south over the Zigana Pass into the upper Euphrates River valley and Armenia. To the northeast lay Colchis, “legendary land of gold, poisons and witchcraft.” In the distance were the forbidding Caucasus Mountains, and beyond that, the boundless steppes of Scythia.17
As their horses picked their way along the coastal path, Mithradates called in at the forts of Side, Phabda, Chabaca, and Pharnacia. Villagers here made their living mining silver and zinc and fishing for tuna. Each hamlet was deeply honored to be visited by the young king of Pontus; they greeted the royal hunting party with fish, bread, and wine. Three hundred years earlier, Xenophon and his army had enjoyed similar hospitality from the villagers’ ancestors. When Mithradates and his friends arrived at Trapezus, they would have recalled how Xenophon’s homesick soldiers had shouted for joy upon finally coming in view of the Black Sea here.
During their travels, Mithradates was becoming familiar with his future subjects and his kingdom’s natural resources and geography, its fertile valleys, harbors, and strongholds in majestic mountains. He and his young friends embraced the risks and hardships, always vigilant for sudden storms in the mountains, several species of venomous snakes, and fierce wolves, boars, and bears. Another danger came from isolated peoples and their deadly flora. In the mountains of Pontus and Armenia, pocked with silver, zinc, tin, and iron mines, dwelled many “strange, primitive tribes,” the Paryadres, Sanni, Byzeres, Cercitae, and Mosynoeci, to name only a few listed by Strabo. Mithradates, with his knack for languages, was quite eager to meet these exotic groups and see whether he could communicate with them. The shamans must know rare toxins and arcane antidotes. Would the archers reveal secret recipes for poison arrows? Toxic hellebore, belladonna, and blue monkshood flourished in the meadows and mountainsides. The travelers had to make sure their horses did not eat these lethal plants. Mithradates carefully collected specimens, keeping notes on their properties and antidotes.
The boys had probably already experimented with hellebore-tipped arrows, used by the Gauls and others for hunting rabbits. The technique worked well, as long as one quickly cut away the tainted flesh around the wound. The Gauls carried antidotes with them, in case of self-injury with an arrow, as did the Scythians. One day, Mithradates could hope to meet the Soanes, a tribe of remote Colchis famous for their arrow drug. Strabo remarked that the stench of a Soane arrow whizzing past one’s head was noxious enough to kill a man!
The Mosynoeci (“Turret-Folk”) were the “worst of the savage mountain tribes,” in Strabo’s opinion. Subsisting on chestnuts, pickled fish, and the flesh of wild animals, the Turret-Folk carved dugout canoes, wielded iron battle-axes and spears, and constructed tree houses on scaffolds in the dense rhododendron forests on the mountainsides above the sea. Xenophon, who had led his Ten Thousand through their territory, reported that the tribe elected a “king” to dispense justice. This king was kept captive on the highest scaffold. If his judgments failed to please, the people starved him to death. The Turret-Folk, observed Xenophon, relished having sex in public, and the pale skin of the men and women—and even the children—was heavily tattooed, “covered with colorful patterns of all sorts of beautiful flowers.” The Turret-Folk were hostile to strangers, notorious for attacking unsuspecting wayfarers by leaping down on them like killer apes from their mosyni, “turrets.” This must be how Mithradates and his friends first made their acquaintance. Somehow Mithradates won this warlike
group over: the Turret-Folk would prove to be an important ally in the last Mithradatic War.18
When spring arrived, the lost boys from Sinope led their horses up the switchbacks into the mountains and disappeared into the cool, high forests where the last snowflakes sifted down from the evergreen boughs. Whooping with exhilaration, the young men celebrated the first anniversary of their freedom to live by their own wits, like Robin Hood and his Merry Band in Sherwood Forest. They looked forward to seasons to come, dodging any authorities with ties to the traitors back in Sinope, plotting their triumphal return.
Munching almonds, pistachios, chestnuts, and dried figs collected at the lower elevations, and copying wise old Diogenes’ austere regime of foraging, the boys gathered tender green shoots through spring and into summer. Remembering how young Cyrus exhorted his companions centuries before in Persia, Mithradates declared that pure, icy water from melted snow was perfect for slaking thirst, and that the earth herself provided the finest bed. Golden pears, dziran (apricots), and plums ripened through the months. As summer faded, the youths gorged on the wild cherries native to Pontus and the steppes and dried some for provisions. Mithradates’ band may even have met some rustic folk who taught them how to curdle mare’s milk with cherry juice, to make the refreshing fermented drink enjoyed by Scythian nomads. The fruit seemed to ease the strains of their vigorous outdoor life—and indeed, cherry juice has been shown to soothe aching muscles.
Weeks passed, months, then years. Mithradates’ party hunted hares, gazelles, wild goats, and deer, draping trophies of their kills on tree branches as dedications to the local gods. Fishing in pristine lakes and streams added variety. Some of the older boys showed off by making artificial flies, tying feathers artfully to the fish hooks, a new technique invented in Greece a century earlier. One day the hunters killed a Pontic beaver and dared each other to eat the testicles, reputed to fortify one’s manhood. Everyone kept on the lookout for ferocious lions and bears that still roamed here, just as in the glorious days of Hercules.19
PERILOUS PASTIMES
As the boys gained confidence and skill, they sought more dangerous game. The most experienced hunters boasted of facing down fierce wild boars. Hunting boar was the essential test of manhood in Alexander’s Macedonia: only those who had personally killed a boar with a spear (without a net) were considered worthy. Recalling the great boar hunts of the Greek heroes of myth (and one heroine, Atalanta), the boys wondered, Was it really true that the more enraged the boar, the more fiery the tusks? Old hunters claimed that the red-hot tusks could singe the fur of the hunting hounds.
Xenophon explained the method of hunting boar. Wielding nine-foot war spears with fifteen-inch blades, fitted with a crosspiece to prevent the beast from running up the lance, Mithradates and his friends, yelling with excitement, pursue the beast until it is cornered. Warily, the muscular and brave prince approaches. If he misses his mark, the desperate animal will charge and gore the boys and dogs. Mithradates dispatches the boar with a well-aimed thrust, and his friends dine royally that night.20
FIG. 4.5. Young men hunting boar, mosaic, Piazza Armerina, Sicily. Scala/Art Resource, NY.
One early spring near Trapezus, after dropping in on their new friends the Turret-Folk, the explorers ride through lush stands of magenta, pink, and white rhododendron blossoms. They have learned that the poison sap of these flowers makes arrows lethal. Along the winding trail in the forest, they notice a number of wild beehives, the waxy combs dripping tempting honey. Mithradates, his mind buzzing with his toxicology experiments, recalls the warnings of the Turret-Folk to avoid eating any honey in these beautiful forests. What a delicious paradox: a sweet poison! Suddenly he understands why Xenophon’s entire Greek army had mysteriously collapsed, unable to rise for three days after sampling the wild honey of Trapezus. Xenophon wrote that he was mystified to see all his men strewn on the ground, totally defenseless in unfamiliar territory.
Mithradates regales his friends with Xenophon’s lurid description of the powerful effects of rhododendron nectar.21 Curious, the boys investigate: the honey is thin and runny, reddish and slightly bitter, nothing like the golden honey cakes served at their birthday banquets back home. A dab of the dark stuff tickles their palms. The tongue tingles after a tiny taste. Mithradates challenges his companions to a devilish contest. He’ll be the judge. Who can eat the most honey without slurring his words, stumbling around like a drunkard, shitting his trousers, or finally passing out cold?
No doubt there were many other competitions, as Mithradates coolly expanded his scientific knowledge of poisons and antidotes and as the young men tested themselves. They were absorbing lessons in loyalty, teamwork, trust, and leadership, and gaining practical knowledge. How far could one shoot an arrow or throw a javelin? How many stades (8 stades = about 1 mile) could one ride in a day? Who could tolerate the most hornet stings? What is the best treatment for snakebite? Just how fast could one run when chased by an angry bear? Contests showed who was best at reciting Homeric verses, quoting poety, wrestling, mock combat, swimming. The boys challenged each other to footraces, horse races, and countless other daredevil games.
THE TEMPLE OF LOVE
This was a pack of energetic, athletic teenage boys, reveling in their freedom, seeking experience and adventure. What were their sex lives like during those years alone together? Some of the youths in the group paired off as lovers, in the traditional aristocratic Greek style. Others enjoyed bisexual encounters, paralleling the well-known inclinations of Alexander the Great and his Macedonian companions, as well as many leading Roman aristocrats of Mithradates’ day. That was not the traditional Persian way, however, according to the Greek historian Herodotus—he claimed that the Persians had learned from the Greeks to accept homosexuality. Roman historians remarked—with surprise, given his Greek tutors—that Mithradates was attracted only to women, never to boys or men. Others in his circle probably shared this interesting quirk.22 But where would young Mithradates and his friends find willing girls in rural Pontus?
At his father’s banquets, Mithradates, Dorylaus, Gaius, and their schoolmates had overheard the men bragging about their sexual exploits in certain notorious temple sanctuaries in Anatolia. Devoted to the cults of Near Eastern goddesses of love (Mylitta, Ma, Enyo, Anahit, and Bellona), these rich temple complexes maintained vast holdings of sacred land and employed thousands of priests, priestesses, and workers. In Pontus, the high priest was very powerful; his only superior was the king who appointed him. The temples’ great wealth came from sacred prostitutes, a well-known but little-understood ancient practice. In Pontus, Cappadocia, Armenia, Babylon, Lydia, and some other ancient cultures, it was the custom for young women to have sex with strangers in the temple before they married. They donated the silver they earned to the goddess.
The most renowned of these temples of love were Comana Cappadocia and Comana Pontica. The historian Diodorus described a visit to Comana Pontica as a relaxing and entertaining romp, rather than a solemn religious ritual. While still in Sinope, Mithradates and the boys dreamed of one day visiting these pleasure gardens, imagining themselves welcomed by bevies of beautiful girls dedicated to enjoying sacred sex with strangers who happened by. In the flowery words of the Epicurean philosopher Lucretius, a contemporary of Mithradates who wrote of love and lust, The dreams of young boys on the verge of manhood are often invaded by images of alluring, delightful women, and the boys’ bodies discharge fluids while fast asleep—even the costly splendors of oriental coverlets do not escape a soaking.23
FIG. 4.6. Youth with long hair, late Hellenistic bronze statue from Pontus, identified as Mithradates. Note similarity of head and leonine hairstyle in the Hellenistic coin portrait of Alexander in fig 5.2. Sothebys, Werner Forman/Art Resource, NY.
Now the youths had the opportunity to make those dreams come true! The head priest at Comana Pontica, in the picturesque Iris River valley, had been appointed by Mithradates’ father. Second only to the king, the priest w
as in a position to know many secrets and to give and receive many favors. Here was a unique chance for Mithradates to mix business with pleasure. This most trusted person, a relative or close friend of the murdered king, would receive Mithradates as his new monarch. So, driven by what Lucretius called the “tyranny of lust” that comes with an “adolescent’s ripening years and strengthening loins,” Mithradates and his friends, we may reasonably assume, visited the gardens of Comana more than once in the years they were out on their own.
What happened in Comana stayed in Comana. But a translation of Lucretius’s discreet, scientific Latin description of the ideal sexual encounter gives a sense of Mithradates’ interludes in Comana: Both men’s and women’s yearning for bliss comes in irresistible waves. . . . Body clings greedily to body, eager limbs entwine, moist lips are pressed against lips in fierce kisses, breaths are drawn through clenched teeth, and it is seed-time in the fields of Venus. Several ancient writers describe the customs at these temples. It seems that the young women could refuse offers and choose partners based on their own taste, beckoning to those whose status and physical appeal most matched their own. We can imagine that Mithradates’ young aristocrats were embraced as handsome, rich “strangers” known to be very generous with silver coins.24
The Poison King: The Life and Legend of Mithradates, Rome's Deadliest Enemy Page 11
